Munkustrap's Week Before Christmas
by SirPrickles
Summary: Munkustrap spends his week before Christmas trying to make the Jellicles' annual holiday celebrations run smoothly. Things don't go exactly according to plan...My entry for BroadwayKhaos' Jellicle Week December Challenge.
1. Spent in Waiting at the Railway Station

**A/N: It's Jellicle Week December, starring everybody's favorite Jellicle Protector! That is, a week of Munkustrap. Sunday's idea donated by the marvelous magical Shrrgnien, my dear friend. **

What was he thinking?

Munkustrap watched in fascination as the pollicle with the squashed face gnawed at the iron girder supporting the ceiling of the railway station. That didn't look a bit tasty. He shook his head and looked away, glancing every so often from the changing timetables down the line of railway tracks.

Skimbleshanks would insist on taking the last train possible. But even he never missed the train.

So why wasn't he here yet?

Long overdue, and Jennyanydots was starting to worry. Munk soothed her, and promised to wait at the station for as long as it took.

It was taking a while.

Munk sighed, gray eyes darting from the mulling passer-bys, cheerful and loud with bright, holiday-colored scarves and umbrellas, to the empty tracks looming to either side of the station.

Skimble was supposed to be here. All the Jellicle cats, no matter their home or station, were supposed to be in the Junkyard the week before Christmas. There were games to play, and stories to tell, and community cheer to spread all around. Even the cats without owners would have a home and family for the holiday season.

A shrill whistle sounded. Munk didn't remember if this meant a train was coming or going. Skimble would know, of course-but Skimble wasn't here.

"Brake problem," a mustachioed man grunted into a pay service telephone. "I heard the station attendants or engineers or something talking."

Munk's ears perked up. He strolled quickly to underneath where the mustachioed man stood.

"Yeah. Uh huh. A few more damn hours, they said." Seeing a large tabby cat hovering around his feet, the man froze, then waggled his booted foot at Munkustrap. "Shoo! Shoo! Get away, you!"

Munkustrap strode away with dignity. He set himself back up at the top of the stairs, carefully monitoring everything coming and going within the station. So Skimble was stranded with the train, which was expected to be several more hours.

Munk felt a yawn coiling at the back of his throat. He pushed it down. There was no sleeping on the job.

He kept his eyes alert, sweeping back and forth although there was nothing really of interest for a Jellicle Protector to see, but he did allow his mind to wander just a little, reminiscing about Christmases past.

This was the first one he was completely in charge of; all the traditions and feasts and celebration. He needed to uphold the honor and dignity of the season. Old Deuteronomy would be visiting, and he would be expecting the best.

A passing human sneezed mightily, causing him to flinch. Munk frowned.

Last Christmas, there had been the Jell-o Pudding Problem. But he didn't think Mungojerrie or Rumpleteazer would try that again-they had been green for almost a month afterward. And last Christmas, those well-meaning but dangerous humans from the Rescue Aid Society had tried to catch Alonzo and give him to small, mucus-filled children.

And last Christmas, Macavity had still been with Demeter.

Munk shivered. A tiny bundle of nerves was beginning to run up the length of his spine. Surely this Christmas, there wouldn't be those type of incidents. Everything would run smoothly, according to plan.

Like Skimbleshanks' train arriving on time?

Munkustrap waited, still as a striped statue and just about the same color, as hours passed and shadows slid across the tiled floor of the railway station. It was getting colder and darker, and still no sign of Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat.

It was almost four in the morning when the tired train wheezed its way into the station. Munkustrap arose and stalked toward the train, heading towards the front where the conductor's cat would sit. He was cold and sore, and none too pleased with the wait. Sure, it was his duty as Jellicle Protector and he wore it proudly, but let no cat forget that he would much rather be curled up with Demeter, or laughing at the kittens' exploits in their first snowfall.

"Skimble?" he called, keeping his voice even as best he could.

The familiar orange head popped out of the doorway, and a Scottish brogue replied: "Here, Laddie." The head disappeared again. Munk sucked in his breath. Not a word of thank you for his time spent waiting.

Skimble hopped down the steel steps onto the platform.

"Skimble," Munk said sternly, "you waited for the last train again. How many times did I tell you to _be_ _here on time_?"

"Brake trouble!" Skimble protested.

"Last train," Munk stressed. "You waited till the last train. You know how important these holidays are to Jellicles."

"Aye!" Skimble said sagely, as if Munkustrap had stumbled onto some deeper truth. "And that's why I brought this little one." With a flourish, he swept a young kitten out from behind him. She had big yellow eyes and scraggly black coat and four white paws.

Munkustrap knelt down. "What's your name?"

"Holly." A braided bit of tinsel was tied around her neck. Munkustrap appraised her. She blinked, looking at him with the fearless innocence of a child.

Munk smiled. "Holly. How would you like to spend Christmas with us?"

She nodded enthusiastically. Munk patted her head, and rose to face Skimble, whose expression was bordering on smug.

"I found her fiddling with the Christmas decorations. She was trying to rearrange them, she told me."

"Likes Christmas decorations? Named 'Holly'? I think the Everlasting Cat is sending me a sign."

Skimble looked confused. "What sign?"

Munkustrap smiled and tossed his head, gesturing towards the railway station's exit and, farther beyond, the Jellicle junkyard. "That this Christmas is off to a great start."


	2. Cinnamon

Demeter let out a particularly loud huff and rolled over noisily, snuggling tightly into the large, faded gray pillow in the back of the den.

From a few feet away, hanging up tinsel on the various pieces of junk forming the back "wall" of the den, Munkustrap glanced back over his shoulder. The black and gold queen was sound asleep, her cheek squashed into the pillow in a rather adorable manner. He smiled and unwound another strand of tinsel, draping it gently over the gilded frame of the cracked but ornate mirror he had found dumpster-diving around his human's house. It was small for a human, but perfect for a cat; and the burnished gold, aged and rich, reminded him of Demeter's coat.

He never told her the reason he spotted it in the first place was that his eyes were unaccountably attracted to that color gold.

Munkustrap smiled to himself and untangled another strand of tinsel. Decorating for the holiday season was a pleasure to him; a joy that brought him back to his kittenhood: bowls of warm cream with bit of eggnog, his mother singing every Christmas carol until Old Deuteronomy himself begged her to stop, and the wonderful spicy smells of cinnamon and pine. Dressing up the Great Tire and all the junkyard beams with spare Christmas lights smuggled from boxes and holly-red bows. And the tinsel!

Munk fingered the slippery silver stuff, which blended a little too well with his fur. One time his brother, the Rum Tum Tugger, had taken advantage of an afternoon nap and braided hundreds of the tiny strands into his fur.

Munkustrap had been as sparkly as a disco ball. It took him ages to unwind it all and he had to endure hearty gales of laughter.

He got revenge on Tugger by spiking his cream with cough syrup. It had been very satisfying.

So Munk held no grudge against tinsel. He finished hanging it all and wiped his paws together, mentally going over his next task.

He checked on Demeter. Now she was lying on her back, arm thrown behind her head, beautiful face serene and content.

Back to task. Munk skipped over to the northern corner of the den, where a pile of various Christmas-themed items gathered in the last few weeks awaited him. A tightly-wrapped package caught his eye. Munk frowned, ticking through the orderly list of items in his mind. He pulled it over and unwound the cheesecloth wrap, finding, to his utter delight, a pristine stick of cinnamon.

Munk inhaled deeply. The spicy scent washed over him, and memories burst awake in his mind. His mother caroling. A newborn Victoria, a Christmas kitten, with a bright red bow around her neck. He and Alonzo trying to catch the first snowfall of winter.

He sighed happily. Then, an idea came to him. He slipped over to where Demeter lay sleeping, and held the cinnamon up to her nose.

She breathed in, and her lips parted. A smile grew on her sleeping face. She breathed out warmly, and said,

"Mac." Her voice was full of love, of brightness-of contentment.

Munkustrap reeled back. He came down hard on his knees, accidentally crushing his tail. But the pain there was nothing compared to the horrible sensation trickling into his heart.

Last Christmas Demeter had spent with Macavity. As _his_ mate.

Things were different now.

Munkustrap clenched the cinnamon stick tightly in his paw. He had sometimes wondered-whether she wished-whether she preferred-

_Mac_...

Demeter's brow furrowed and she twisted away from him, facing the wall of the den. Her sides moved gently, untroubled.

Munkustrap heard it again in his mind, clear as a bell: _Mac_...

The rich, spicy smell of cinnamon? Of course, the holidays would make her think of her former mate. She had, after all, spent the time with _him_. They probably had a good time; she probably had fond memories of it.

_Mac_...

It was the way she said it. Like a claw, it tore into him; the soft intimacy in her tone.

Munkustrap hurled himself away. He stood, and sought refuge in the doorway of the den. He stared at the crisp night sky, and felt the winter chill down to his bones.

Still, it didn't ease the pain in his heart.

Demeter screamed.

The sound woke him, and he raced back inside. Demeter was trembling on the pillow, eyes darting around until they fixated on the solid form of the gray striped tomcat, who stood in front of her anxiously.

"Munk!" Demeter choked, stumbling to her feet and into his arms. She buried her face in his chest fur, heart beating against his at an impossible pace. "I had a horrible nightmare."

He couldn't speak. Words fizzled and dissolved on his tongue. All he could do was hold her, as tightly as he dared, keeping her heart pounding against his.

"I dreamed it wasn't you," Demeter whispered, her green eyes gazing up at his own gray ones. "I dreamed it was..._him_." The horror in her tone was evident. She shivered visibly and her claws dug into his back. "Promise me it's you, and only you."

"Always," he choked out. He nuzzled her, protectively, feeling tension slowly drain from her body.

"Munk," she said, urgent and fervent and trusting. "Munk," she said softly, full of love and desire.

It wouldn't destroy the heartache. But it was helping. He ran a paw down her back. She smiled, and shook her head. "I'm sorry about this. I don't know what came over me."

Munk saw the stick of cinnamon out of the corner of his eye. He resolved to give it new, more pleasant associations for Demeter. This would be her best Christmas yet.


	3. The Tale of Red Paws

Snow fell softly from a deep blue sky, which was quite dark in spite of it being only three o'clock in the afternoon.

The Jellicle Junkyard was blanketed in white, shimmering with highlights of silver and deep shadows of purple and blue. A good deal of the shadows were moving about over the clearing in front of the Great Tire; the kittens were having a blast playing in the snow. They squealed and yelled, breath steaming in the cool air, wet and tired and happy as only kittens in their first snowfall can be.

Munkustrap, watching with a smile from atop the TSE car, stood up suddenly and looked around in an exaggerated manner.

"Everyone!" he said, in a booming voice, "Gather 'round! It's time!"

Etcetera clapped her paws. Tumblebrutus bounded over her, accidentally landing on Plato, who unceremoniously threw him onto Electra, a visible target.

"Plato!" she yelped, shoving Tumble back.

"Stop, Electra," Plato said, "You're being such a kitten."

"Why you..."

"Kittens!" Munk boomed. "Settle down!"

Electra shot Plato (who was ignoring her superbly) a dirty look, but settled herself down into a spot at the front.

Munkustrap, once the tom-and-queen-kits ceased messing around, declared:

"It's time for you all to hear the story of this wonderful season. It's time for the story of Red Paws."

"Red Claws," came a new voice, lazy and indolent. Munkustrap looked up to the bedsprings where the Rum Tum Tugger sat, one arm thrown behind his head and the other fiddling aimlessly with his studded belt.

Munk said-"No. It's Red Paws." He continued: "Every year, at Christmas time, we celebrate the coming of Red Paws, and the good fortune he brings.

"Red Paws was a jolly Jellicle cat from the snowy North, blessed with magic so powerful that he could slow down time. He traveled across the land, seeking others with powers and teaching them to use them wisely. He spread his knowledge far and wide, using his power over time to reward good cats and punish bad ones-"

"Macavity!" Etcetera chimed it.

"What? Where?" Demeter gazed about wildly. Bombalurina shook her with loving exasperation. "He's not here, Dem."

Demeter flushed slightly. She looked at Munkustrap, who simply went on:

"When Red Paws visits at Christmastime, and sees how good you are, he uses his power over time to capture hundreds of mice-"

The kittens couldn't suppress squeals of excitement.

"-and brings them to all the good queens and toms. Now, Red Paws may not be here yet, but in good cheer we have some mice that you-" he pointed at each kitten in turn-"get to catch. Because Red Paws is here to spread good joy and cheer..."

"No." Tugger landed next to Munkustrap on the TSE car. He straightened up, shook out his mane, and gave all the kittens (and junkyard) plenty of time to give him their undivided attention (which didn't take very long) and said,

"Ol' Red Claws is here for his dinner. My mother told me," Tugger intensely examined a paw, "that Red Claws was a wild, ravenous cat from the frozen North. Huge, and furry; white, from his ears to the tip of his bushy tail, all except for his paws."

Tugger raised both paws slowly. His eyes, hooded, sparked rather wickedly. "Except for his red paws..." The Tugger whipped out his claws, and leaned forward, hissing menacingly,

"...which are stained with the blood of naughty kittens!"

Etcetera wailed, tucking her tail under her legs. Jemima's eyes were as wide as possible, and even Pouncival looked unnerved.

"Every year," Tugger growled, "he comes down from his hellish Northern den, hungry from hibernation, and he sneaks through the snow with his white coat, to catch and eat little kittens. It doesn't matter if you're in a home. He sneaks down the chimney, quiet as a mouse, and tiptoes to your bed-"

"Tugger!" Jellyorum broke in, shocked, "Stop it!"

He stood back up, leaning heavily on one leg as was his custom, shoulders thrown back. He yawned. "Anyways, that's what my mother told me. She said 'Red Claws' would eat me up if I didn't go to sleep."

There was a long pause.

Munkustrap said, shortly, "No offense, but your mother was insane."

Tugger shrugged. Mistoffelees piped in, "The story of Red Claws is a holiday classic. Mother just told it to make us settle down. Of course," he added slyly, "she told me, at least, that it was, 'just a story'..."

Tugger said darkly, "That's just what Ol' Red Claws wants you to think. So if you see a hint of red in the snow..." He lunged at the kittens. "Watch out!"

The screams reached a pitch only Jennyanydots could sing. Munkustrap swatted his brother. "Damn it, Tugger!"

Another Christmas tradition ruined. Munk gritted his teeth. Would anything go according to plan? At least Old Deuteronomy was snowed in at the Vicarage and missed this appalling display.

Jenny and Jelly rushed in to comfort their kittens. Amidst the hubbub, Etcetera could be heard whimpering, "Mom! He can sneak in the chimney, just like Santa Claus!"

Victoria screamed and pointed.

Munk held his breath. A red shape was moving in the snow, towards the main clearing. He shook himself out of it. Wait a minute. It wasn't Red Claws, it was...

Bombalurina.

The red queen stopped in response to all the wild stares on her. She wrinkled her brow in confusion, big amber eyes wandering over the frightened faces of the kittens and half-relieved, half-irritated faces of the adults. She bit her lip. "Did I miss an important part?"

Tugger scowled. "The best part."

Demeter twitched and pulled Bomba out of the spotlight. "Red Paws became Red Claws," she said succinctly, but not very helpfully.

"Oh?" Bomba said, politely. "I've never heard that version. How does it go?"

Munkustrap smacked Tugger. The shaggy tomcat looked offended. "That was unwarranted."

"Hardly," Munk hissed. "Don't even think of starting over."

Tugger leaned in. "Are you kidding? That would totally ruin the effect."

The effect was apparently causing all the kittens to squeak, and stare at snow clusters, and look very frightened, unwilling to step a few feet away from their mothers.

"You know that you're making Christmas difficult for me, don't you?"

Tugger grinned like a maniac. "No. More exciting."

"Exciting," Munk muttered, "Right." He took a deep breath, and said, in a cheerful voice, "Now-who wants to catch some mice?"

A flurry of shaking heads.

Tugger stepped forward. "C'mon, scaredy cats. Ol' Red Claws hates whiny little kittens."

Munk glared at his brother.

"Those are the ones he eats first."

The ensuing cacophony, what with Jellyorum and Jennyanydots berating Tugger angrily over the wails and hissing of the kittens, made Munk wish that someone else was the Jellicle Protector come Christmastime.

Demeter sidled up to him. "I liked your story better." Her eyes were laughing.

Munk sighed and squatted down, resting his paws on his knees. He watched Tugger cringe as Jelly poked him with a furious, waggling finger and Jenny lectured him on Proper Types of Stories for Young Kittens. Demeter crouched at his side and nuzzled his shoulder, purring.

"Well. It is a Christmas we'll remember."

**A/N: I'm trying to catch up with the day! On Wednesday, I'll put up the Wednesday prompt :) Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!**


	4. Hot Chocolate

Snow was falling in patches as Munkustrap loped around the perimeter of the Jellicle junkyard. Or, at least, the parts of the junkyard considered "Jellicle". He was doing a routine sweep.

Since most cats would soon be leaving to spend the week of Christmas with their owners in heated houses, the junkyard would be relatively unguarded.

Munk enjoyed the activity. The brisk cold made him alert, and he liked the way parts of him disappeared and blended with the shades of gray in the snow. Right now his forearms appeared to be missing striped chunks, creating the illusion that he was only partially visible. Munk grinned to himself and continued to move north alongside the chain-link fence, scanning the area as he went.

The sound of angry voices came to his ears. Munk slowed down. He headed towards the voices, hackles raised. This was an uninhabited part of the junkyard-the northernmost part. No Jellicle strayed so far, except of course himself and Alonzo.

Speak of the devil. Munkustrap slunk behind an old crate full of soggy stuffed toys, and peered out.

Cassandra, sleek and shivering, was frowning at Alonzo atop the highest pile of junk in the area, dubbed "the Watchpile". Her claws dug into the seat of an upturned chair, and she gazed up at her mate in a distressed fashion.

"Go home, Cass," Alonzo ordered tersely. "We're through with this discussion."

"Please," she said, "It's safer, and warmer, and you don't need to be lonely-"

"I'm not lonely!" Even from a distance Munk could see that the tomcat's tail was beating violently against the side of the chair.

Cassandra crouched lower. "I didn't mean..." She looked miserable.

Alonzo sighed and said, in a much gentler tone of voice, "Munk won't be here at night; he's going to spend Christmas at his owners. Someone has to guard the junkyard. And it might as well be the cat without an owner."

She broke out again: "Please, Lonz! Please. Come to my home."

"Cass, the last time I visited your home your owners called the Rescue Society and I almost got caught. They don't want a mangy stray around their purebred Abyssinian."

"But-" she started, looking horribly guilty.

Alonzo climbed down a step or two and wrapped the shivering black queen in a warm embrace. "Go home, Cass. You don't do well in this weather."

"Please, Lonz?" she whispered, muffled by his chest. Munkustrap could barely see the icy tears crinkling on her cheeks. Alonzo kissed the top of her shivering head.

"No. And don't come visit. You don't do well in this weather."

As if to prove his point, she sneezed. Alonzo released her with an affectionate slap on the rear. He turned and climbed back to the tip-top of the Watchpile, scanning dutifully for any activity.

Cassandra let out a sigh in a tiny steam cloud and descended to the snow-covered ground, glancing back once at the black-and-white cat before turning away.

Once she had left, Munk stood up, stretching his back. He started to ascend the Watchpile. A few chairs, hats, and mufflers later, he paused.

Alonzo's back was to him. Munk saw him exhale in a rush, and bring both paws up to bury them in his thick headfur, rubbing as though his temples ached. Another deep breath, and Alonzo sagged to the snow, curling into a ball. His black sides and patches showed up strangely, hovering dark against the light of his white fur and the white snow. He looked oddly incomplete.

Munk hesitated, then climbed back down the pile. He hit the snow softly, and snuck away.

* * *

"Alonzo!"

Alonzo scrambled upright at the cheery sound of the Jellicle Protector's voice.

"Munk! I thought you were heading out after your final sweep..."

Munkustrap smiled and climbed, carrying a small human's toy teacup, which steamed cheerfully in the cold.

"About to. Thought I'd bring you something."

He handed the steaming cup to Alonzo, who, standing in these surroundings, looked like floating black puzzle pieces.

The black patches peered into the cup. "It's mud."

Munk laughed. Alonzo looked perplexed. "Not a great time for a mudbath, Fearless Leader."

"No. Drink it."

Alonzo's black eyebrow raised comically.

"It's hot chocolate. With milk."

At the sound of "milk", Alonzo's ears perked up and he lapped experimentally. His eyes widened. "Sweet!"

Munkustrap nodded wisely. He sat on the upturned chair, and motioned for Alonzo to do the same. Alonzo did, and proceeded to tip the cup up, taking huge gulps.

He certainly seemed to be enjoying the stuff.

"So Lonz," Munk began, nonchalantly, "The sweep was all clean, as usual. There's really not much to worry about during the holidays."

Alonzo nodded, still slurping.

"If I were you, I'd just go back to my den and stay warm. Take a nap or something."

"This warms you right up!" Alonzo said, holding the cup reverentially. He drowned himself in the dregs, and smacked his lips happily. His fur smoothed unconsciously and he didn't seem to be feeling the cold.

"Or you could get out, and visit someone. There's really no one here to protect-Skimble back on the railway, and everyone else at their owners'. So take it easy."

Alonzo rolled his neck, blinking in slow comprehension. "You're sure?"

"Certainly."

Alonzo furrowed his brow and nodded in agreement. "Alright," he said, "yeah. I think I might nip out and visit Cassandra."

"That's the holiday spirit!" Munk cheered.

Alonzo stood up and stretched, all the way down to his tail of floating black patches.

"Merry Christmas, Munk." He grinned and dropped down the pile, landing in the fresh snow. Munk watched him go, amusedly.

Hot chocolate could make anything better. Especially if it had milk and a lil' dash of rum.

**A/N: YES! I caught up! Jellicle Week December, now in real-time!**

**That means Thursday's coming up tomorrow, all you lovely readers. Ta-da!**


	5. Fireplace

Embers crackled and little flames licked happily at a smoking pine log, glowing a warm orange color. A neat set of poker-and-tongs sat in a short bin by the hearth, which itself was made of a cool black marble studded with gold specks, which twinkled as the little flames danced.

Munkustrap, stretched out luxuriously on his side, fought the urge to chase the twinkling gold specks. He brought a paw up, but instead used it to lazily scratch his striped side, which was a hot orange instead of its usual gray.

He turned his face a fraction to look idly at his paw, bathed in firelight. The hot golden glow and dramatic black shadows thrilled him. Although red n' green were the technically Christmas colors, he always thought the vibrant gold and dramatic black a much better fit for the blazing joy of the holiday season. They seemed to him the hues of heat, happiness, and perfect beauty.

Incidentally, they were the colors of Demeter.

Munk smiled to himself. He flexed and rolled onto his stomach, giving his back a chance at the fire. It was nice to be away from the pressures of the Jellicle junkyard. Come Christmas-time, everything went a little crazy. Tomorrow he would be back there, trying to keep control, but tonight was only relaxation.

His ears jumped to attention. A slight tapping, tinny, fragile, echoed in the apartment. Munk stayed absolutely still. His humans, an elderly couple, had already gone to bed. Their little pollicle (nearly blind and quite useless for home defense, in Munk's professional opinion) made huffy shuffling noises, and was prone to thumping, not tapping.

The high, tinny tappy came again. Munk sat up. Then he stood, assuming the protector stance that was his second nature.

He glanced left, glanced right, and nearly jumped in shock.

Demeter was grinning at him through the window off to the left of the fireplace. She playfully tapped a nail on the glass.

Munk hurried over, climbing a chair he wasn't supposed to climb. He reached the window and fumbled with the latch, but managed to unlock it and heave the window open just enough for a blast of cold air and a very lovely queen.

She slipped down the chair and stood waiting for him on the carpeted floor. Munk carefully lowered the window, making no sound, and latched it again. He sprang down.

"Demeter." His tone was warm and affectionate, and a little bit overjoyed. It was hard to express how happy he was to see her here, in his humans' living room.

Purring, she reached up and touched his face. His paws came to rest on her hips.

She pulled herself forcefully into his arms and kissed him, tasting of desire and contentment.

He responded by lifting her completely off the ground, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. Her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him.

Languidly, they stood for several minutes, basking in each other. Finally Demeter let go with a sigh and slid down his torso, ending up on all fours at his feet. She crawled over to the hearthside carpet in front of the fireplace, turning her head back and winking at him.

Munk didn't need much encouragement. He dropped down and joined her, rubbing against her back and shoulders. "Not that I mind at all, but what are you doing here?" he whispered in a low purr.

She arched into him and said, with a smile in her voice, "I've decided to spend this very special night, the night-before-the-night-before-the-night-before Christmas (one week removed), with you."

"Your owners?" Surely they would worry if she was gone.

"St. Croix's. In the Caribbean. Two weeks."

"Bombalurina?"

"Oh, she's back at the flat."

"Alone?" Munk could hardly believe Demeter would leave her beloved sister alone during the holidays.

Demeter yawned and pushed herself into his lap. "Bomba likes a bit of solitude now and then. Besides, she's sure to have...a visitor." She rolled her eyes.

"Ah," Munk said, comprehending. "Is that why you're here?"

"No," Demeter said calmly, nestling her head under his chin. "I'm here to be with you. Just the two of us, no drama, no responsibilities, no holiday 'incidents'-" her tone was wry and he laughed-"no Tugger..."

"Oh?" Munk grinned.

Demeter blinked innocently. "Did that come out? Oops. Like I said, I just want to be with you. Only you." She sighed contentedly.

Munkustrap idly stroked her shoulder, tussling the golden strands in the black fur. Demeter nosed him sleepily.

"I like this fireplace," she said, closing her eyes.

"It just got a whole lot better," Munk agreed.

Demeter giggled, and cracked one eye open. "It's perfect for me. Fire in the front and you at the back. Warm all around." Her tail twined with his. "Are you cold?"

His back felt a slight chill when compared with the heat on his face. But the contentment in the rest of his body, from his ears to his intertwined tail, was more than enough to compensate.

And the gold specks in the marble hearth couldn't compare to the fur of the gold-and-black queen. The little flames in the fireplace crackled cheerfully. Munkustrap sighed happily.

"Not at all."

**A/N: Two chapters to go! And I'm on time-it's the holiday spirit-possibly the Ghost of Christmas Present. Hope you enjoyed!**


	6. Silver and Gold

"_Silver and gold...silver and gold..._" Munkustrap sang under his breath, pushing Tumblebrutus into place next to Admetus. "_Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold..._" He skipped over to the front of the snow-covered hill otherwise known as the Great Tire and arranged Jemima between Mistoffelees and Pouncival.

The Jellicle Snow Ballet was about to begin. Munkustrap stepped smartly into place beside the Rum Tum Tugger, and nodded at his brother. Tugger gave a slight incline of the head, face taking on the familiar concentration only seen when he was dancing. It was the one thing, Munk thought wryly, that Tugger took seriously. They all did. For Old Deuteronomy was sitting in his place of honor, attended by Exotica, being very solemn for the special event (although Munk did see him wink at Mistoffelees) and watching intently.

Victoria lifted her chin regally, in the center of the stage. She spun gracefully, feet making a fresh, crisp sound in the new snow. She arched down and back, scooping up a handful of snow. When she twirled again, she flung her paws out, the snow being flung in beautiful shimmering arcs against the dark blue evening sky.

Munk drew in a deep, measured breath. The snow was flung. The Ballet begun. And he was the principal dancer.

He flexed his right leg, slowly, letting it drift forward above the snow. A quick, quiet hop, and he repeated the action with his left. One step behind, on either side of him, Tugger and Plato mimicked his movements, equally silent. Opposite them, the queens, led by Victoria, countered. Munkustrap reached the centre of the clearing and grabbed a pawful of snow, throwing it high into the air and making six quick rotations as it trailed down, showering his head and shoulders. Victoria met him, and leapt into the air. Munk caught her deftly, keeping a tight grip on her thigh and ribcage. It wouldn't do to drop the white queen, during this duet that was meant to represent a snowflake spinning to the ground. It was also the part of the Ballet where things sped up.

As he turned in a circle, Victoria held above his head, at first slowly, then faster, he saw Demeter's face go whishing by. Faster, and it was a streak and a blur, black and gold flying by.

Munk exhaled, and released Victoria, who came down perfectly, one leg extended, back arched, eyes glowing. Out of the corner of his eye, the other cats were dancing in perfect sync in the snow, and Old Deuteronomy was beaming at him.

Finally, something was going right this Christmas.

* * *

"What were you humming?" Tugger hissed.

Munk looked blankly at the tall tomcat. "What?"

Tugger shook out his mane, causing a shower of snow to float to the ground. He vigorously scratched his headfur with both paws. They had just ended the Snow Ballet (a very successful one, in Munk's opinion) and been heartily praised by their father, who was currently being surrounded by most of the queens, who loved his furry bulk. Even Demeter, who wasn't very cuddly, admitted Old Deuteronomy was "the warmest, nicest, squishiest cat to hug."

"What. Were. You. Humming." Tugger enunciated, looking not at all amused. "During the Snow Ballet, which you _should_ know is supposed to be performed in complete silence..."

Munkustrap's tail twitched. "I wasn't..."

"Oh yes, you were. I could hear you. _Da da da dum, da da da dum_..."

He flushed unexpectedly. "Oh-ah..."

Tugger frowned, eyes unfocused. "Wait...that's Silver and Gold. Am I right?"

"Uh..."

"Why ever..." Tugger began. Then his eyes lit up like lights strung all around the Jellicle junkyard for Christmas. "Aha. I see."

Munk prayed he didn't look as red as he felt. Red was a color only Bombalurina should wear.

"_Silver and gold_," Tugger sang, winking and lacing as much innuendo as possible into the words, "_Silver and gold. Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold.._."

"Stop!" Munk whispered. "Please. Not here." Not now. Things were going so well...

"_How do you measure its worth_?" Tugger grew infinitely louder. Several queens, including Demeter, glanced over where the two stood, Tugger with his shoulders thrown back, Munk with a paw covering his forehead.

"Just by the..._pleasure_..." Tugger crooned, looking at Munk with a terrible smirk on his face, "_it gives...here on earth_."

Munk hurried away from his obnoxious younger brother, greeting Old Deuteronomy with clasped paws and a bow.

"Are we singing carols now, Munkustrap?" Old Deuteronomy stage-whispered. "We didn't do that back in my day, but I'm up for new traditions." The way his father's eyes twinkled, Munk thought he had a shrewd idea what was actually going on.

Demeter nuzzled Munk's side. "You did wonderfully," she murmured, lifting her beautiful gold-and-black head to give her mate a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Suddenly Tugger was leaning over both of them, grinning. He threw his arms around Munk and Demeter (who bristled) and continued:

"_Silver and gold...silver and gold_..." Munk glared at him. Tugger sang, "_Means so much more when I see_-" A pause and a wink to Old D. "_Silver_-" he ruffled Munk's headfur-"_and_ _gold-"_ he ran a finger through the thick fur on Demeter's shoulder, tugging at a gold tuft. "_On ev'ry Christmas tree_."

Etcetera giggled wildly and whispered something to Electra, who broke out in a wide grin. "Awww."

Jemima sighed happily. "How romantic."

Munk, for Demeter's sake as well as his own, shook Tugger off. He was avoiding Demeter's amused gaze. It was becoming apparent more than one cat had heard him humming during the Snow Ballet.

He caught Bombalurina's eye by accident, and she winked. Munk gave a wan smile. Demeter slid her paw in his and gave a squeeze.

"_Silver and gold, silver and gold_," Tugger. "_Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold_!"

Bomba reached over and pulled at his belt. "That's enough, Tugs." Munk was grateful for the help-it looked as though everyone else found this too amusing.

Even Old Deuteronomy, who was humming along.

"_How do you measure its worth_?"

"Seriously. Stop."

"_Just by the...pleasure..." _Bomba let out a squeak, and smacked the Rum Tum Tugger in indignation.

"_It gives here on earth_!"

Munk heard Demeter mutter, "He's ruining it for me."

"Enough, Children." Old Deuteronomy smiled gently. "If we're going to sing Christmas carols, then I personally would like to hear, 'Let it Snow'." He looked at the deep blue sky. "A little snow after the Snow Ballet would be lovely."

"Then," said Mr. Mistoffelees, confidently hopping on the currently-white Great Tire, "allow me." He lifted his paws and waved them in a flurry, while humming the tune of "Let it Snow".

Munk pulled Demeter closer. She nuzzled his chin and sang, so softly no one but he could hear, "_Silver and gold, silver and gold_." Munk couldn't help it; he blushed. Demeter laughed softly and kissed his cheek.

Mistoffelees leapt down, landing in front of Munk and Demeter. He lifted a paw expectantly.

"And that is how you do it. Merry Christmas, Queens and Toms."

A snowflake spiraled down, landing in his outstretched paw.

**A/N: Merry Christmas Eve! Jellicle Week Saturday should be up in a few hours :) Edits, you know. **


	7. Mistletoe!

Munkustrap was taking a meandering stroll in the northern part of the junkyard, far away from the main Jellicle clearing. Upon finding a good, solid packing crate, he dusted off the snow and settled himself on top, curling into a ball. He closed his eyes. He needed a rest. It was the last day all the Jellicles would spend in the junkyard before going home to spend Christmas with their humans.

It was the dénouement, so to speak, after last night's Annual Snow Ballet.

Munk felt his cheeks grow heated. He scratched behind his left ear, agitated. The Snow Ballet had gone perfectly, until he discovered he had been _humming_, audibly, the entire time.

A paw grabbed his twitching tail. He sat up in a rush.

It was Bombalurina. She smiled sympathetically at him, crouched mere inches away. He'd been so absorbed he hadn't heard her. Jellicle Protector _fail_. "What's wrong, Munk? You snuck away this morning. Everyone misses you."

"Why would they?" he sighed. "I didn't exactly make everything run smoothly for the annual holiday traditions..."

Bomba rolled her eyes. "That was Tugger, not you."

"Was I-could you all really hear me _humming_?" Munk asked, "During the Snow Ballet?"

Bomba bit her lip. She looked as if she was trying to suppress a smile and failing miserably. It told him everything he wanted.

"Great!" he exclaimed, lying back on the crate. "It started with spending all night waiting at the railway station when I should have been decorating with you all-"

"You were doing your duty," Bomba said, soothingly.

"-And then stupid 'Red Claws', and those mice escaping when they weren't supposed to, and I got all emo over cinnamon, and I was _humming during the Snow Ballet!_"

Bomba looked at him curiously. "Cinnamon? No matter. Today's chill! Everything's fine, no planned events. Just come back over and hang out with us. Dem wants you to," she added, temptingly.

Munk rolled over on his side. "Much as I'd like to, Tugger breaks out into 'Silver and Gold' every time he sees me." His face felt like it was on fire, remembering the song, which Tugger sang as offensively as possible.

Bomba coughed, delicately. "I'll deal with Tugger. You just come back. Five minutes, I want you on top of the Great Tire with Demeter. Five minutes." She whirled and headed away, hips swinging. Munk watched her go.

Then, he sat up. He was the Jellicle Protector, and, no matter what, he had a duty. He stood, and jumped off the crate, landing with a smooth "crunch" in the snow.

But before he even reached the main clearing, Munk's tail started to twitch. He set his jaw. His finely tuned Jellicle Protector senses told him something was not right.

He spotted it on Pouncival. The tom-kit's fur was studded, all over, with a little green plant-mistletoe.

Munk stalked over.

Pounce and Tumble (also covered in mistletoe from ear to tail) were cackling, helping Plato and Admetus with their own "decorations".

Munk yanked a piece off Tumble. "No."

"Munk!" Pounce exclaimed in dismay, as Munkustrap started pulling off the mistletoe, left and right.

"You cannot force the queens to kiss you." Munk turned Tumble and started stripping his fur, giving a loaded look to Plato and Admetus, who, chagrined, started doing the same.

"But Munk!" Pounce pleaded, "it's a rule! You have to kiss the mistletoe! You should be kissing me, right now!"

Munk gave him a raised eyebrow. "Was that your goal? And no, I don't. It's kissing _under_ the mistletoe, and I'm not allowing this."

"But Bomba-" Pounce started, and Tumble nodded eagerly.

Munk gave him a push, not ungentle. "No. Now, run along and participate in a good, wholesome activity!"

* * *

Apparently, the "wholesome activity" they decided on was trying to catch him, Munkustrap, under the mistletoe. Munk couldn't swear to it, but the very fact that the little green leaves showed up everywhere he stood couldn't be accidental.

When he sat with Demeter on the Great Tire, Alonzo informed him of mysterious, hovering mistletoe above their heads. Then Alonzo reached up and yanked it down from a thread-line, causing an unseen tom-kit to yelp.

"Thanks, Lonz," Munkustrap said. Demeter would never go for kissing in such a public venue. And he didn't want to pressure her, or allow any pressure to be put on her. Other couples caught under the mistletoe happily complied with the Christmas tradition, exchanging long, affectionate kisses that made him roll his eyes.

Alonzo toyed with the little plant, smirking at Munk. "You two didn't kiss," he pointed out.

Demeter blushed. Munkustrap bristled at Alonzo. "Give me that."

"No way." Alonzo grinned. "I'm going to _use_ it..."

* * *

Munk had to keep on the move. No matter where he tried to rest, some cat or other held up mistletoe. Even, when he sat under the TSE car, Coricopat. And Tantomile.

Demeter was in the same situation. It seemed the whole Jellicle tribe was conspiring to make the reluctant lovebirds kiss. Munk hadn't spoken to her about the delicate situation, but made himself scarce for her benefit. If they weren't together, they couldn't be forced to kiss!

He finally took up hiding, resting underneath a wilted old hatbox.

"Munk?"

Ears twitched involuntarily. It was Tugger's voice. But he sounded rather...apologetic?

Munk crawled out. He stood, expectantly, as the Rum Tum Tugger strode closer, paws held open. "No mistletoe. I come in peace."

"I'm glad," Munk said wryly.

Tugger sighed. "Listen. I'm sorry I was more difficult than usual."

"It's alright." Suddenly, Munk felt like everything was much better. Tugger acting normal did that to him. Add to it the fact that he wasn't singing "Silver and Gold"...

"And everyone's sorry for trying to mistle-bomb you. Come back to the clearing. _Demeter_ sent me to get you. What would the last day before Christmas be without the Jellicle Protector? Who gave us a spectacular week of traditions? And performed a perfect, _musical_ version of the Snow Ballet last night?" His green eyes glinted, but in good fun.

Munk, whose heart lifted at the sound of "Demeter," cuffed his brother's maned shoulder affectionately. Together, they walked back into the clearing. Jemima and Electra rushed over to greet him, while Etcetera took a detour nuzzling Tugger's legs. Alonzo, arms wrapped around a smiling Cassandra, gave him a respectful nod. Jellyorum and Jennyanydots both pressed in and thanked him warmly for such a wonderful week. Pouncival nodded in enthusiastic agreement, although his mischievous twinkle hadn't entirely disappeared. From the TSE car, Coricopat and Tantomile saluted him.

Munk swelled in happiness. Hearing that everyone appreciated his efforts...well, it was the best Christmas present he could have asked for. Almost. Munk smiled at everyone, and went straight to Demeter, hovering by the open mouth of the oven. He sat down by her, pressing up against her shoulder.

"Have you liked this Christmas?"

She smiled secretly. "It isn't over yet."

To his complete surprise, Demeter held up a piece of mistletoe. She lifted it over her own head. Munk's mouth dropped open in shock. But he thought...for sure...Demeter wouldn't...want to...

But she was smiling, looking up at him bashfully.

Well...he hadn't asked...

She jingled the mistletoe enticingly, as if it was a holiday bell. Munk leaned down and claimed her lips, softly, then fiercely, as she responded with passion.

He could hear cheers and applause behind him, the entire Jellicle junkyard celebrating with him. His heart beat fast, overflowing with joy and gratitude.

And love. He pulled Demeter closer, deeper, and since she didn't pull away, neither did he. The cheers grew louder, in fact, he could hear Tugger hooting.

Finally, Demeter slipped back. She smiled, a sweet, loving smile, and told Munk: "This is the best Christmas ever. In the history of ever." She leaned back in, and Munk was in his happy holiday place.

It was the best Christmas ever.

**A/N: *collapses in exhaustion* Merry Christmas. Hope this gives you tons of holiday cheer! Enjoy, and have a wonderful, fantastical Christmas!**

**Note: My other fic, "The Epic Jellicle Snowball War" will be continued next week and themed for New Year's. I need a lil' break. **

**Again, Merry, Merry Christmas!**


End file.
